The Moon
I love the moon when it is new,
As it peeps out from evening blue;
I love it more when by its side
The Evening Star shines like a bride.
I love the moon with golden rim,
It looks so pretty and so trim.
But when half full it has more worth,—
It sheds more light upon the earth.
But round and full I love it best,
All night it shines from east to west;
Its quiet face looks down on us,
And asks why all this noise and fuss.